Kim Possible: Lost Souls
by LJ58
Summary: Kim and Ron have both fallen. But while a harried Global Justice tries to hold the line left by their loss, a dark force rises from beyond the grave to take vengence on those that killed the heroes. Rated M for some graphic violence.
1. Chapter 1

_I do not own any of the Disney characters named herein, nor the story concept so well portrayed by J. O'Barr, and not so capably by a host of copycats following the late Brandon Lee's iconic film. I am just borrowing characters and concepts to tell my own humble story meant for entertainment purposes only._

**Kim Possible: Lost Souls**

**A Kim Possible/Crow Crossover**

**By LJ58**

**Prologue:**

The woman walked slowly, her dark coat flapping in the wind as gray clouds hung over the sky like dark cotton. It wasn't raining yet, but it would soon. The woman sniffed as she paused before a particular grave. A larger than life angelic figure in familiar mission gear stood a sentinel's watch over the sleeping dead. It was a scaled down copy of the statue in the nearby park that served as a memorial to the bravest, most selfless girl the woman had ever known.

Her daughter.

Ann Possible wiped a tear away, and simply stared at her child's name on that lifeless stone. She had died so young. Too young. Her and Ron both had so much ahead of them. They were going to marry. Have a family of their own. Knowing them, they'd both raise those children to be as daring and adventurous as themselves.

Instead, they were both dead, and were now but dimly remembered martyrs to a Justice that barely even remembered their names just a year after their deaths. She watched the news. No one talked about them any longer. They were too obsessed with new politicians, new celebrities, and the host of villains that were running amok as even the best law enforcement agencies were hard-pressed to stop, or even slow the efforts of criminals Kim used to stop with an almost preternatural ease.

She glanced to Kim's right.

To Ron's grave.

It had just seemed right to bury them together. It was right to give them an eternity they should have known in this world. She couldn't wipe away the tears fast enough to clear her eyes as she almost tripped when finally turned away from the lonely graves. Only a few flowers rested on the two isolated plots, proving a few people still remembered her precious child. She remembered when the entire cemetery had been filled with mourners, and well-wishers.

Not that it mattered.

"Come on, sweetheart," a gruff voice guided her from the graves as the first cold, fat drops of rain finally began to fall. It seemed to always rain when she came here.

As if the world itself shared her grief.

"Let's get you in the car before it starts raining," her husband said quietly as he led her away from the graves where her dearest treasure lay.

Behind them, the sky tore open as lightning flashed, and the rain began to fall in earnest.

Unnoticed, one of the graves abruptly split open as a clenched fist smashed through hardened earth, and then reached toward the stormy sky.

_To Be Continued…_


	2. Chapter 2

_I do not own any of the Disney characters named herein, nor the story concept so well portrayed by J. O'Barr, and not so capably by a host of copycats following the late Brandon Lee's iconic film. I am just borrowing characters and concepts to tell my own humble story._

**Kim Possible: Lost Souls**

**A Kim Possible/Crow Crossover**

**By LJ58**

**Part One: Rising**

Pain.

The burden of it was worse than any hell.

Pain. And loss.

Which was worse? Could it even be measured?

Memories flashed like cold light on colder steel. Fire bright, that light danced on an knife's edge that was the very threshold of an unimaginable precipice. A dizzying drop into a abyss so filled with emotion that not all the drugs in creation could begin to dull the ache that swelled and knotted in cold, rotting flesh as the heart within impossibly started, and then continued to throb.

Excruciating, exquisite agony played over nerves that should have died long ago.

Bone creaked, but still moved, tendons and muscle impossibly working in tandem to propel a corpse that a raw, flayed mind protested should not exist any longer.

But the pain! The pain reveled in its existence!

It demanded expression.

It demanded recompense.

Digits curled, and a hand coiled into a fist, hammering at the darkness. That last barrier between pain and vengeance. The final barrier between light and dark. Between death and…

The barrier yielded, and the hand found open space beyond an unyielding, stygian dark. Raw fury had slammed liked an unrelenting force into immovable dark.

Only the darkness had yielded.

Clambering out of a pit of darkness and decay. A pit of unending anguish. The body rose to stand under gray-black clouds as mud and decay dropped from tattered grave clothes, and confused worms fell from once sloughing flesh that now took on an unnatural life.

Dark, glittering eyes raised to the heavens that seemed to be weeping at the soul's pain. Or perhaps at its defiance of the natural order.

The soul within did not care.

It only felt.

Opening thin, split lips, it gave voice to the unbearable anguish an eternal, endless year had pressed down upon it without respite, or remorse. The scream was an aching expression of purgatory that echoed over the still cemetery, and scattered the birds and animals in the area that might have been taking shelter nearby.

All but one bird.

The panting, anguished creature lowered its eyes as it turned to see a huge, black crow perched on the raised arm of a statue that stood nearby. It cawed nosily, and cocked its head, its dark eyes regarding the abomination that stood before it.

"Now," the lips parted, a raspy croak almost as guttural as the crow's own sounding. "Find them."

The crow cawed once, and spread its dark wings before taking flight.

_To Be Continued…._


	3. Chapter 3

_I do not own any of the Disney characters named herein, nor the story concept so well portrayed by J. O'Barr, and not so capably by a host of copycats following the late Brandon Lee's iconic film. I am just borrowing characters and concepts to tell my own humble story._

**Kim Possible: Lost Souls**

**A Kim Possible/Crow Crossover**

**By LJ58**

**Part Two: Warning Signs**

"Damn it, Will. We lost five more agents last night. What is going on with our training standards?"

"It's not the training, Dr. Director," the prematurely graying young man told her as he limped into her office where she reviewed even more disappointing news. "It's the caliber of opponents we're now facing. It's not just that homicidal, man-hating Sonic, or that self-styled Wraith who keeps stealing everything remotely high-tech for who knows what reason, we have every angst-ridden teen with an assault rifle out there gunning down people without a care in the world. Frankly, I'm afraid we just don't have the resources to handle everything cropping up these days."

Betty Director sighed, and closed her good eye as she rubbed her temples.

"Are you telling me we lost five men last night because of…spoiled teenagers," she hissed.

"I'm afraid so. They came in to assist the local police in stopping a jewel theft by Sonic, but while they were containing her, two teenagers who decided video games were too boring opened up on them with automatic rifles they had taken from their father's gun locker. The local police never had a chance. Three civilianls were also killed in the crossfire, and…..Sonic got away."

"And the shooters?"

"Twin brothers. We have one. He's in ICU in critical condition. The other is still missing."

"So, we lost eight men, Sonic escaped, and we have at least one armed, homicidal _child_ still running around out there. Is that your summary, Will?"

"I'm afraid so, ma'am," he nodded.

"Sometimes I really miss the old days," the woman sighed, dropping her dark head to rest in her hands. "Give me a lunatic trying to control weather, or a run-of-the-mill terrorist trying to build smart bombs any day."

Will wisely said nothing.

"There is….one more thing."

"What?" Betty looked up at him, and for a moment the stern, unyielding woman actually looked ready to snap. "What else could possibly top last night's fiasco?"

"Professor Dementor is dead."

Betty felt a cold chill go through her spine.

The diminutive scientist could have had a legitimate career, but somewhere along the line, the taunts over his stature had made the bearded man snap, and he decided to devote his considerable talents to more evil enterprises. He might have succeeded a dozen times over were it not for…

Betty cut off that train of thought. It was counterproductive. Besides, it was done. Over. Her hoped-for successor had failed in the end, and failed spectacularly. The missing chunk of the lunar landscape over their heads, and the ring of debris still orbiting the planet proved that.

"What happened," she made herself ask, tearing her mind from the past. "And why wasn't I informed."

"I just received the report myself," Will admitted, "And I'm still trying to process it. Only, Dr. Director," he said, handing her a small data chip with the file on it. "You are not going to believe it."

Betty scowled, and put the chip into her computer, and opened the encrypted file obviously sent by Wade. Who else could get news or information these days before those damned media vultures had plastered it all over the web?

She froze as she stared at the first images that opened alongside the sketchy report.

"My…God," she choked, staring at the gruesome photos.

"I think we have a new player," Will said needlessly. "A really nasty one, too."

Betty swallowed hard, unable to think of a single thing to say. For a moment she just stared. Then turned and grabbed a nearby waste can before vomiting up what little breakfast she had managed to make herself eat that morning.

**KP**

Pain gilded the mind that propelled the body.

Eyes saw shapes and glittering light in the darkness as rain hammered the world as if seeking to scour it anew. A glance upward saw flaming residue from micro-meteors that now adorned the sky with vapor trails that originated from a lunar landscape that looked now unlike someone had taken a large bite out of one side of the pale disk. It was a full moon, so that bite was more than visible. Few clouds now. The storm had faded the night before as if nature's fury was spent in its brief spasm. The rain had passed, leaving the world smelling temporarily fresh and crisp, if only for a few seconds. Those seconds died stillborn in the back alleys where the dark silhouette glided as if drawn to a location by unseen forces.

Or the guiding eyes of an unseen guardian.

The shrill cry of a large bird echoed over the concrete jungle for a moment, just before narrowed eyes locked on sight not their own, and then shifted to see the flash of light where none should be. Man-sized shadows moved from a large van, and toward a back door.

The watcher let loose a faint growl of rage, and moved forward.

"Will you being careful, you dummkopfs," the shorter of the six men demanded in a low hissing rasp as they pulled open the back door after shorting the alarm. "You almost set off the security system again. Are you not knowing how much…..?"

"Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Naughty little boys should be home in bed," a voice like gravel on steel cut into the diminutive leader's rant as the shadow walked out of the darkness beyond the faint emergency lighting. "Then you might not have ended up in such terrible, terrible trouble," the singsong voice declared.

"What are you talking about, you annoying…..? Wait. You are not a police officer. You are not even being…..!"

The man in the distinctive gleaming helmet, and stiff, crimson jacket gaped as the figure moved into the light.

"_You_! This is not even remotely possible! This cannot be…..!"

The figure leapt forward, hands and feet flashing as five men fell in obvious pain as blows crushed bone, and ruptured organs with the ease of one swatting insects. Not one of the men moved after they fell. Not one even gave a faint groan as their breath hissed away one last time before the men fell completely, and forever still.

"Wait. Wait," the single man left upright held up both hands. "Surely, we can make a deal, ja? An arrangement? I am certain we can be reasonbuuuuuulllllllll," the man wailed just before he was grabbed, and carried straight up the side of the nearest building with ridiculous ease by the impossible creature that stood before him.

Cold, glittering eyes looked down on him as the man listened to his helmet fall, clattering off the fire escape, bouncing off the widow sills, and finally landing to ricochet off an overturned garbage can.

"Naughty, naughty boy," the cold, grating voice chided as wild eyes looked up to meet the unnatural creature that held him over the edge of the building ten stories up as his short arms pin-wheeled for balance that would not come since he was held upside down by one, thick ankle.

"All right. All right. I am giving up here. You win. Again. Just….be letting me go!"

The cold visage stared down at him, head cocking to one side, and thin lips quirked into a teasing smile. "If you insist, naughty boy," he was told, and the hand opened.

He wailed all the way down, shrieking girlishly as he struck one corner of a fire escape, and bounced away to fall freely the rest of the way. He slammed into the ground, pain exploding through his injured body, but somehow he remained conscious even as he focused his eyes up on the shadow still so high over him.

The shadow seemed to have grown huge, black wings stretching out and flapping in the breeze.

He had already forgotten the dark coat wrapped around a lean, wiry frame. His mind saw only wings.

The wings spread out, and the creature leapt down to fly after him.

His mouth, spitting blood, mocked death sweeping down for him. "Ha!" he taunted. "I am still…!"

Powerful feet landed full atop the squat, thickly muscled chest of the shorter man. Gravity, and terminal velocity combined rendered his body into a blood-filled balloon that burst on impact. The dark shadow laughed quietly as it walked away, heedless of the bloody footprints that left a distinctive shape behind before the blood faded.

"Naughty, naughty boys should have stayed in bed," came a final taunting whisper before the dark shade vanished into the night.

**KP**

"Tell me we have something from forensics," Betty asked as she recovered from an atypical reaction to a shocking crime photographs spread out on her monitor.

"The footprints indicate a size six or seven. The smeared blood made it hard to be certain. Men's shoes, though, we are reasonably certain. Still, the tread patterns indicate one discontinued for over two years now. Still, it's the blood trail that interests me most," Will told her, and moved to click on one of the smaller photos and zooming in on it, as it was obviously taken from over street level.

"What do you see?"

"A…..bat?"

"I was thinking more a bird. Whatever it is, I think it means we have a new vigilante," Will told her. "One that doesn't mind playing for keeps."

"I can see what killed Dementor well enough," she grimaced, forcing herself to study the gruesome images. "But what about his men?"

"We didn't notice until the autopsy, but it looked like something hammered them with the force of a pile driver. Only the subcutaneous bruising indicated only hand or fist-shaped marks. Someone obviously has some _very_ serious super-strength, because those blows were enough to break bone, and pulp organs on impact. Those men never had a chance."

Even as she studied the written part of the report which technically ended one of GJ's perennial thorns in their side, a knock sounded on the door. "Come in," she called as she looked up, and another agent walked into the room, and stared at the images still visible on Betty's monitor.

"Damn," the man exclaimed. "Sorry, ma'am, but from the looks of your current file, it like we have a definite serial."

"What," Will asked. "Explain yourself, Agent Darke."

The ironically named Ian Darke who was blonde, fair, and well-tanned, held out photos in a hard-copied folder. "I just got this in from Go City PD. They would like our input, and our help, since with Team Go out of town at the moment, they're at a loss as to how to proceed."

"What do you mean…? Oh, God," Betty paled again, and stared at the images of a man and woman who had been literally torn into pieces before their limbs and their own blood were used to form a bird-like shape around their mutilated torsos. The pair looked as if that mutilation had taken place while they still lived. Their last expressions were more than terrified.

"Junior and Bonnie Senior," Will grimaced, staring at the known faces of a rather inept 'Bonnie and Clyde' who were more concerned with flash and dazzle than real crime. Still, they had enough felony warrants on them to make the top ten most wanted list. From the look of things, they weren't going to be making any more lists in this lifetime.

"Witnesses? Security cameras? _Anything_?"

"Not anything beyond what we have there, ma'am," Agent Darke told him grimly.

"This looks like a damn mall, for God's sake," Dr. Director protested. "You're telling me these two broke into a mall to loot…..whatever, and yet not one camera spotted them? Or their attacker?"

"We have footage of their break-in," Ian nodded. "And the start of their indiscriminate pillaging. Then the monitors just shut down all at once. That in itself alerted the local police, but by the time they arrived….."

Ian shrugged, and nodded to the copied police file.

"Will, when did Dementor and his men get attacked?"

"Coroner said around ten based on body temperature, and the….ah, coagulation of the blood."

"The mall deaths?"

"GCPD put TOD at about two this morning based on the missing time stamp from the footage," Ian told her.

"Someone gets around," Betty murmured. "Still, a fast car would explain it. But not the crime scenes. You are telling me there is this much carnage and not one trace of the perpetrator's presence beyond the dead bodies was left behind? No one is that good."

Neither agent said a word.

"Go back and recheck both crime scenes. Go over them inch-by-inch yourself," she told Ian, knowing the man was a meticulous type sure to do his best. She then looked up at Will. "Agent Du, I want you to research this….mark. It might mean something. And there could be a connection between the two….no, three felons that might explain this…..carnage. Find it."

Both men nodded, and left without comment.

Betty stared at the case files on her desk, and on her computer. Three major players. Nine henchmen. Two weird markings to apparently tie both slaughters together. So what was going on out there? A new player? For whose side? What was going on now? Much as she hated it, she had only once choice. One real chance to find out.

Reaching for her intercom, she buzzed her secretary. "Yes, ma'am," came the dutiful response.

"Sandra, get me Shego," she told the woman grimly. "Tell her it's a potential rogue _Omega_ situation."

The woman's gasp was audible over the intercom before Betty cut the connection.

_To Be Continued…_


	4. Chapter 4

_I do not own any of the Disney characters named herein, nor the story concept so well portrayed by J. O'Barr, and not so capably by a host of copycats following the late Brandon Lee's iconic film. I am just borrowing characters and concepts to tell my own humble story._

**Kim Possible: Lost Souls**

**A Kim Possible/Crow Crossover**

**By LJ58**

**Part Three: Omens & Other Obvious Ploys.**

"You're kidding me," Shego grimaced, staring at the grizzly crime scene photos Betty gave her. "This is really…..?"

"Do I look like I'm kidding," the graying brunette demanded, her single good eye locked on the green-skinned woman who was officially dead, but continued to do certain jobs for the intelligence communities around the world in exchange for her apparent demise being accepted as genuine.

Even Betty had been shocked when Shego came to her after that lunar fiasco where five major players all joined together to try to take out Team Possible once and for all. Shego, it seemed, had discovered there were lines even she couldn't cross. She left Drakken's employ, but not in time to find, or stop Kimberly and Ronald from walking into what proved a very deadly trap.

Even Betty had been shocked when Shego decided she wanted out of the biz bad enough to have her make it appear that she had been on the moon, too. That she had died in the cataclysm unleashed by Dr. Drakken's then most recent scheme. Unlike Team Possible, Shego's apparent passing went relatively unmourned by the world. Even her brothers didn't show up for the rather symbolic service since no body was recovered.

Unlike Possible and Stoppable, who made it to an EVA craft, but died of radiation overdoses large enough to keep their pod orbiting untouched for weeks before anyone could even get near it to bring them back for burial.

Betty, and others like her, saw a win-win scenario in front of them. Shego retired, but remained secretly active only on high risk missions where someone of her caliber was necessary. Omega level cases, they were called. The situatiosn where ordinary agents were simply outclassed. There were surprisingly few of them in spite of the mutated freaks, super-geniuses, and other global threats they faced on a daily basis.

Shego readily accepted.

The only stipulation was her distinctive costume was permanently retired. Shego didn't even pretend to argue.

"Damn," Shego murmured as she continued to study the file photos. "Whoever hit these guys had to have…..well, Hego-like strength. And then some."

"That's what we thought. And, yes, we checked. Hego was still in Guatemala as part of that earthquake rescue effort with your brothers during the murders."

"Not his style anyway. He might bore you to death with his dimwitted lectures, but he never really hurt anyone if he could help it," she murmured thoughtfully. "It's why he got out of crimefighting. Too many close calls punching ordinary people."

"We had to check. After all, it might have been a good motivation."

"Hego? Motivated to kill? By what?"

"Recall that Demenz was one of the men implicated in _your_ apparent death."

Shego suddenly frowned. "All three of them were," Shego realized as she studied the files, and then looked over at Betty from across the desk still separating them. "But not just _my_ death. Maybe…..Maybe someone is finally getting around to avenging Princess and her buffoon? I remember hearing a lot of people were really upset you guys let those few you caught off with life sentences. Right before they all broke out of jail again."

Betty's expression was more than sour. "We only arrest. We don't try, or sentence anyone," Betty reminded her.

"Yeah. Now pull the other one," the green-skinned woman in a black jumpsuit drawled, actually holding up a leg from where she stood.

Betty took a moment to admire her flexibility and balance, and then scowled, "Put your damn foot down. The point is, they were tried by American courts, and the jury gave them life. You'd think they would realize by now that some people not only want stay behind bars, they don't learn their lesson no matter how often they get slapped."

"Someone knows it," Shego tapped a picture of a birdlike shape made of blood and gory limbs. "And my gut is telling me that this is a vengeance thingy."

"What makes you so certain?"

"Hmmmmmm. Dementor literally stomped into a bloody mess? The dimwitted couple literally torn limb-from-limb? I'll bet your pension one of the other three players that were involved are next."

"Senior, Sr. is still in a private ICU in Greece," Betty told her. "And under heavy guard. I doubt they're going to get that far."

"Maybe, but Drakken and Camille are both still in the wind last I heard," Shego drawled.

"You have any problem going after him?"

"Why bother? If I'm right, he's next on the hit parade. Well, eventually. Still, Ed might have an idea where he's hiding. Or even Drew's mother," she sniggered. "You should send one of your errand boys out to talk to them."

"My agents are not errand boys, Shego," Betty growled.

"Now, now. It's _Jade_. Remember? That bad old villain Shego got blown to pieces a year ago….yesterday," she suddenly frowned, looking thoughtful.

"What?"

"Just….a weird thought. I gotta go check a few things. When I get back, maybe I'll know more," she said somberly, and pulled her dark hood back over her distinctive features as the stealth suit let her vanished completely just before the door opened, and she left the office as unseen as her arrival.

"Errand boys," Betty huffed.

Still, even she had to admit she had not thought of a vengeance angle. There were certainly enough people out there with reason to go after Kimberly and Ronald's killers. Starting with their families, and even a few of their close friends. Only who really had the ability to take out some genuinely dangerous felons with such apparent ease?

The Possibles were scientists. Kimberly's brothers were geniuses in their own right. Could they have _built_ something…..?

She shook her head. No. Too obvious. And not their style. That family was all about doing right. No one in Stoppable's family had the knowledge, skill, or power to take on such dangerous felons. Which left the friend or stranger angle.

Still, both families had some very powerful friends. There were rumors Ronald was even affiliated with a dangerous ninja clan that had been operating covertly for centuries. One tied to genuine mystical powers that she recalled once motivated a certain eccentric English lord to hunt down said power before he inexplicably vanished without a trace one day. Yet if that were the case, why wait a year to act?

She shook her head at her thinking of such nonsense.

If it was a vigilante, it had to be a stranger. She just didn't think Kimberly's friends were the sort to go out on a killing spree in her name. A few might have the ability to pull it off, but none of them she had met would lower themselves that far. Which, regrettably, left a very large unknown at play.

She hoped Shego, or Agent Jade as she was known now, found something. Because if not, and she was right, at least three more people were going to die. It was not a comforting thought even if they were bad guys. No one deserved to die that way.

Not even someone like Drakken.

**KP**

The shadow slid across the darkened room, touching certain items in the small room. Recoiling from others. A gloved hand reached for one of the photos on a nearby desk even as a footstep from down the hall sounded like thunder in super-sensitive ears.

Replacing the photograph after a wistful look, fresh pain scarring burning nerves as if the mere touch had lit neurons that had idled in numbness until that very moment. Then, the shadowy figure was outside the window, and moving away even as a light flared, and a door opened. A weary woman sighed as she looked into the room, and then slowly turned to leave, never noticing the still open window.

**KP**

"I'm telling you my sweet little muffin," Camille Leon cooed to her new cat who had replaced her precious Debutant just three months ago. "We are going to go places this time. Those jokers at Global Justice cannot possibly catch us this time. They cannot even find us. We'll wait, lay low a little longer, and when the time is right, I just morph into the most powerful woman on the planet, and voila, they won't even know we're back on top…"

The cat was looking bored as she explained her plan while she roamed the 'borrowed' house where she was playing housewife in the form of a woman actually off on vacation. It had been child's play for her to imitate her, and convince the neighbors she had stayed home while her husband and children went on vacation. She feigned an illness, which kept the visitors away, and just sat and waited for her real target to arrive in town.

The news had been talking about the much celebrated _First Lady of Commerce _who was coming to Upperton this week. The richest, most powerful, and very single woman who all but personified "_cream of the crop_" in the world today. All she had to do was just had to get in close, copy the woman's look, and then get rid of the original.

She could then return to the lap of luxury, and be able to live out her life without looking over her shoulder, because who would ever suspect her?

Who, too, would even be looking for her with GJ obsessed with real super super-villains and terrorists? She just had to pull off one more little job, and she would be set for life. It was going to be her easiest job ever with no one even really looking for her.

Or so she thought right up until the scented candles suddenly sputtered as a crash of glass sounded not too far away, and she turned toward the kitchen, wondering what was going on.

She listened for a moment, but heard nothing.

Kids throwing balls, or rocks?

A glance at the clock said it was after ten. The local brats should be holed up in their rooms playing video games, or networking from their dank rooms. Her cat still looked bored as she followed her toward the kitchen. Unlike Debutante, her new kitten was more willful, and independent. She tolerated her chattering, but was as likely to walk off as she was to stay and listen.

Peering into the dark kitchen, she saw the frilly curtains over the kitchen sink blowing with the breeze from outside. Frowning, she walked closer, and heard the crunch of glass under her feet. Just what she needed. She couldn't too well call the cops. Supposedly being 'ill,' she didn't really want to go running outside to find out who was throwing…..

She gave a squeak of alarm as she saw the 'ball' at her feet, and picked it up to find it was a cat's skull. She dropped the skull, and backpedaled across the kitchen to bump into a stool near the counter as her kitten suddenly hissed, and bolted out of the room as a large, black bird cawed from the back of the stove where he lighted when it swooped into the window with a nerve-wracking cawing.

"What the hell," she cried, gaping at the huge, black bird that stared at her with glittering eyes.

"Hell, indeed," a raspy voice sniggered in her ear as she spun around with a shriek, and stared at the lithe, black silhouette with brightly gleaming eyes that reflected the light, and gave the shadowed trespasser an otherworldly appearance. "Care for a foretaste? I recommend….."

Camille screamed as she scrambling from the kitchen, and heading for the front door without looking back.

"Screaming," the maddeningly familiar voice droned on as Camille snatched at the front door, and found it unyielding. She wailed fearfully as she scrabbled at the latches and locks, and pulled it open to see the shadow was now somehow standing on the front step before her.

"Followed by a few moments of futile begging," remarked thin lips stretched into a mirthless grin.

Camille shrieked, and slammed the door, bolting for the back door.

She never made it. She fell as something tripped her, and she landed sprawling with the partially decayed cat's head skittering under her feet to end up right in front of her as she realized only then it was Debutante's head.

She screamed again as she felt something grab her ankles, and drag her back toward the dining room.

"I don't hear begging," the dark shape rasped she was somehow lifted, and slung around through the air by her ankles to land on the wooden table in the dining room. "Maybe I'm not doing this right," came a low chortling that sounded quite mad to Camille's ears. More than mad. Beyond insane.

"Who are you," she cried. "What do you want?"

"Poor little rich girl. All those faces. All those lives. And you never learned to live your own," the intruder sighed. "Still, if you want to play housewife, you need to learn to set a proper table. You have to know how to serve. To give of yourself. In the end, it's all about presentation," the voice sniggered as Camille lay there on her back, still trying to catch her breath. Still trying to fight back the fear knotting in her chest as she lost focus, and her current mask, and became her own, familiar, and pinched visage.

"Ah, _there_ you are. That makes this much easier," the hauntingly familiar voice chortled as the dark shape moved, and the cold flash of steel moved over her face.

Camille screamed again as she felt something cold and sharp pierce her wrist, and pin her left arm down to the side of the wooden table. She saw steel flash again even as she felt the agonizing throb in her left wrist, and screamed again as that pain was echoed in her right wrist.

"Who are you," she screamed, looking around wildly as the shadowy figure moved around behind her. "What do you want?"

"Who am I? The silhouette moved to her side, and stared down at her, eyes glittering with pain and madness. And hellish, unending loss. "I'm the raw burn of hunger on an ungreased pan. I'm the rush of sanity in a world gone mad. I'm the last whisper of love among a land filled with hate."

The smirking, shadowed face leaned closer, and asked, "Understand yet?"

"Y-You," Camille stammered in genuine horror as she managed to focus past her own tears to stare at a face from her nightmares. "It….It can't be you. You're…..dead. Y-You're….."

The shadow shoved a fat apple into her mouth, muffling her protests as the strength behind that push shoved the ripe fruit deep into her mouth, shattering teeth, and lodging the fruit in place.

"I'm dead. No, I'm alive. Yet I am dead. Maybe that explains why my heart burns with pain, while my mind weeps with desire. Or maybe _I'm_ the one in hell, and I've already gone insane? Hard to say just now, isn't it?"

The head cocked as Camille whimpered beyond her makeshift gag, and her round, glassy eyes stared fixedly on her private demon.

"Oh, I see. You want me to get on with it," the impossible creature nodded. "I understand. I'm rather hoping to be done with all this myself. If only to see what comes next. Now, what did we say about presentation," thin, cruel lips smiled as a hand lifted a larger, sharper knife over Camille's face.

She wailed in vain as the knife met vulnerable flesh, and began to cut.

**KP**

"Do I want to know," Betty asked as Will came into the office early the next morning.

"Camille Leon," the agent told her, handing her the disk. "Died en route to the hospital in Upperton."

"She wasn't killed?"

"She was tortured. Her face, and every inch of her skin was peeled off her body, and tacked up on the wall of a suburban home where she was apparently hiding out. Not well enough, since our mystery man got to her all the same."

"How can you be sure she was one of…..his?"

"Aside from the grizzly attack? That," he said, tapping the screen where the first picture was of a skinned Camille with her own skin forming a bird-like silhouette on the wall behind her.

It was just as bad as Betty had feared. At least she knew no one would be airing these images. Even today's media wouldn't dare broadcast such gory photos.

"Any word from Agent Jade," he asked grimly, never having quite accepted the necessity of using such an asset. Not when she already had a reputation for turning on those she worked for in the past. Team Go. Drakken. Several times she turned mid-mission over the years when deigning to work with the late Kim Possible. It didn't bode well to him. His first choice would have been to put the allegedly deceased villain in a real grave, and be done with her.

"Not yet. I do know she went out west for some reason."

"West?"

"L.A. The river docks. That's where her minder tracked her. What she's looking for is anyone's guess. But I have the feeling she might actually know what is going on, and just wants proof."

"That doesn't help us just now."

"No, but the vengeance angle she suggested seems pretty solid just now," Dr. Director admitted. "Only Drakken and Senior, Sr. are left from that botched mission. Any sign of activity from our most probable suspects?"

"Not a hint. The Possibles all remained home last night. Same with the Stoppables. Monique was in Paris with Cocoa doing a fashion show. In short, no one was out of place last night about the time someone was slicing our chameleon into wall art," he stated grimly. "Still, all the attacks have taken place in this region. Do you really think whoever it is will find and reach those remaining men?"

"Did you think they could have found Camille Leon when our best agents had yet to even locate her in over a year since she walked out of prison by impersonating the warden?"

"Oh. Well. It does seem like it would have to be someone with connections to the underworld if they knew where she was hiding out."

"I don't know. I just don't know. Nothing makes sense about this case," Betty complained. "This is about more than killing. It's like….."

"_Punishment_," Shego said as she stepped into the office in her black uniform.

"What?"

"Punishment," she told Will. "I think I know what's going on now."

"What did you find," Betty demanded.

"An urban legend. One that actually goes back quite a ways. All the way to the Celts. It might even go back farther," she admitted. "But I quit hunting once I confirmed my suspicions."

"And you brought up Celts after a trip to Los Angeles," Will smirked. "I don't see the connection."

Shego glared at him before she turned to look pointedly at Dr. Director.

"Nine years ago, I was in L.A. when a guy I knew….absolutely _knew_ was dead, showed back up to level a local drug gang. He was bulletproof. And I don't mean Kevlar-style bulletproof. I mean spongy. You could shoot the hell out of him, and….zip. Nada. The rounds went through him, and then he just….kept going."

"Are you giving us….ghost stories," Will Du exclaimed.

"Of a sort," Shego nodded. "Ever heard of the legend of the Crow," she asked Betty.

"Crow? Big, ugly birds that eat corn," Betty drawled. "I don't know of any legends."

"I know several. The one that sticks out is that crows sometimes ferry the dead souls of victims of violence to their fate. Sometimes, however, a soul is so…..burdened, it won't go. It won't relinquish its hold on this world, and it demands…..vengeance. So the crow brings that soul back so it can right wrongs, and settle unfinished business before it can finally seek it's eternal rest."

"You're kidding me," Will laughed now. "You fly all the way to California, and you bring us nothing but…"

"Nice picture. Almost like a…..crow, don't you think," Shego asked Betty as she nodded at the newest image now displayed on her monitor.

Betty rubbed her temples between her hands, and finally looked up at her. "Are you trying to tell me….._this_ is real? You really think some…..ghost is back from the dead to…..to…..avenge itself?"

"That guy I mentioned nine years ago? He was in the company of a big, black crow. Biggest damn bird I ever saw. As to my friend? He and his daughter were slaughtered by the same gang that he went after. Once they were all gone, he just….disappeared."

Will glared at her, but Betty stared at the images she quickly brought up from the other crime scenes on her computer. "They could all be…..crows. Every one is the same."

"You expect us to believe…..? That someone…..one of _them_, actually came back from….."

He paused as Betty's computer suddenly chirped a priority message coming in from the President's private line. She quickly opened the channel, but the President's distinctive drawl did not fill the speaker.

"Dr. Director," a young man spoke hurriedly, as if in shock. "This is Wade," he said quickly as if she wouldn't recognize him.

All three of them froze when Wade's almost unnaturally panicked voice cut in, telling her, "Dr. Director. Something's come up. Literally. I'm at _their_ graves."

**KP**

Wade stared incredulously at the sight before him. He was astonished someone had not yet already noticed. Looking around, he noted a few visitors on the far side of the cemetery. Few people came here any more. Even fewer likely even remembered Kim or Ron after just one year. Then, too, there was the hack media that suggested their bodies might still be dangerously radioactive, and might mutate anyone that stood too close for too long.

God, he hated the media.

He had come here because he finally noticed an old signal was active. And it wasn't supposed to be active. In fact, it should be impossible. At first, he feared it might be grave robbers, or worse. There were, after all, a lot of really loopy people out there that might want to try some sick things with his friends' bodies. That was why he didn't tell anyone what he had detected when the static security system indicated movement at the gravesite.

Something he had added back when his friends were buried to protect them from enemies who might not be satisfied with their deaths. No one came, though, thankfully, and he almost forgot those systems until now. Still, what could have disturbed them?

He decided he had to check for himself.

Wade shook his head as he realized just how far out of his depth he was here. He slowly lifted his right hand, thumbing the communication switch on his own mini-computer. "Dr. Director, this is Wade."

"Wade, I thought I asked you not to…"

"Dr. Director. Something's come up. Literally. I'm at _their_ graves."

"Their….graves," Betty's voice audibly tightened.

"Ma'am, one of the graves is open. Torn open. From the _inside_," he said uneasily.

"Oh…..hell. Which….?"

"It's Ron's, Dr. Director. I think he's back," he said, and couldn't help shuddering as he said it.

Betty didn't reply for a very long minute.

"We need to talk," she finally told him. "Meet me at Braxton and Ninth."

Wade didn't argue.

_To Be Continued…._


	5. Chapter 5

_I do not own any of the Disney characters named herein, nor the story concept so well portrayed by J. O'Barr, and not so capably by a host of copycats following the late Brandon Lee's iconic film. I am just borrowing characters and concepts to tell my own humble story._

**Kim Possible: Lost Souls**

**A Kim Possible/Crow Crossover**

**By LJ58**

**Part Four: Carnage**

"Dr. Director. Something's come up. Literally. I'm at their graves."

"Their….graves," Betty's voice audibly tightened.

"Ma'am, one of the graves is open. Torn open. From the inside," he said uneasily.

"Oh…..hell. Which….?"

"It's Ron's, Dr. Director. I think he's back," he said, and couldn't help shuddering as he said it.

Betty didn't reply for a very long minute.

"We need to talk," she finally told him. "Meet me at Braxton and Ninth."

Wade didn't argue. He closed the communicator, and all but bolted from the cemetery as if fearful his dead friend might be right behind him, waiting to reach out and grab him if he tried to stand between him and his goals.

**KP**

"All right," Betty looked up at Shego as they waited for Wade to reach the nearest transport tube that would bring him to them. "What did you find out about this….Crow legend? How do you stop it?"

"You let them avenge themselves, and don't get caught between the Crow and its targets. Anyone that makes that mistake dies."

"Bull," Will spat. "You're telling me people are coming back from the dead for centuries, and no one has ever managed to stop them?"

"Why would they? They only return to punish _evil_," Shego pointed out. "Then, too, five minutes ago you were about to fit me for a straightjacket. Are you now saying you suddenly believe me after Nerdlinger's freaky little phone call?"

"It does seem to….fit. Besides, we all know Ron had some kind of mystical ninja power. We don't know how that might have affected him in life. So we can't really say what it's done to him in death. For all we know…..it might have brought him back without your mystical crow."

"You really are an ass, aren't you," Shego demanded curtly.

"It is a….nearly logical explanation."

"Really? Then explain to me why a monkey master would suddenly have a bird fetish," Shego huffed as she indicated the photos again.

"I can't," Will admitted.

"Doy. Because he's a crow. _The_ Crow. The living dead back seeking vengeance. Just like the legends."

"And you honestly expect us to stand back and let him kill…..Drakken and Senior?"

"What are you going to do? Put out an APB on a dead man," Shego asked blandly. "I'd love to hear your bosses' reaction to that one."

Both agents frowned at that. "How do we go after him, if…if it is…Stoppable," Will asked in genuine confusion.

"I'm as perplexed as you, but one thing I know. Stoppable was not about vengeance. So I cannot….. I will not accept that this is him. Whatever it is, it's a dangerous, and obviously homicidal force we must stop for the sake of anyone else in its way."

"Uh, hello? Stoppable was already like practically unstoppable near the end. Once he mastered that mojo of his, he was cleaning clocks like a pro. I still remember him tossing two nine foot alien monster five hundred feet into the air to smash into their own exploding spaceship," she exclaimed heatedly. "And you want us to go against that?"

"It's what you signed up to do," Will reminded Shego.

Shego glowered potently even as a soft knock sounded, and Wade stepped inside looking far more pale than usual for the dark-skinned teen.

"Whoa, kid," Shego smiled wanly. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Just his grave," Wade told her ruefully.

"You said you believe it was opened…..from the inside? How can you be certain?"

"Pure physics, ma'am," the obviously frightened young man nodded. "Something pushed it's way up from beneath the ground, splitting the earth, and then digging its way up and out of the grave."

"Will, send a team to check it. And I want it completely hush-hush. One rumor. One word of gossip leaked to the press this time, and the transgressor will be patrolling with penguins until the next Ice Age," she told him.

"I'll be sure they understand," Will nodded, and left the office with a sidelong glance at Wade.

"Shego has a theory," Dr. Director told him as Will left.

"Really," he asked, turning to face the woman. He was one of the few on the planet that knew about Agent Jade outside Global Justice, and the intelligence community.

"Hey, I'm more than just another pretty face," the mercenary grinned. Wade only stared at her, saying nothing.

"Fine," she muttered. "Tell me, brain-boy. Ever hear about the legend of the Crow," Shego asked him quietly.

**KP**

Eyes stared up at the dark sky just starting to grow light.

Soon. Soon the pain would be over. The task would be done. Soon.

A hissing wail of a sigh like air forced over jagged teeth sounded as glittering eyes stared at the ring of rubble that now filled the sky. The occasional flash of a meteor filled the sky, and a mind tormented by loss and impossibilities remembered a painful ending that proved to be just a beginning.

**KP**

_**Interlude:**_

"I've got the coordinates," Wade shouted over the roar of the rockets as Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable strapped into the spacecraft that would carry them to the moon where Drew Lipski, AKA Dr. Drakken had teamed up with four other major villains in their life to try to forge a hammer over the proverbial heads of the entire planet.

A nuclear hammer.

The madman had stepped up his game, and managed to steal two nuclear warheads from a destabilized Pakistani government, and carried them to the moon to use as a club to enforce his demands on the planet he had always hoped to rule.

"Just tell me," Kim asked the young genius on the screen. "Do we have time to intercept those nukes before he can launch them?"

"Everything I've calculated suggests you can. But you have to be quick. The minute they spot you coming, they might launch early just to spite you."

"Then we can't let them see us coming," Ron said grimly.

"Exactly why I outfitted your ship with the latest stealth tech. It's a prototype, but the electronic countermeasures should get you to the lunar base before anyone spots you. Once you're there, though, you're on your own," Wade told them. "So be careful. It sounds like Drakken has really gone over the deep end this time."

"When hasn't he," Kim sighed. "I was so sure he and Shego would have retired by now."

"You said that about Senor Senior, too," Ron reminded her as the monitor went blank as the small, sleek shuttle they had commandeered began to rise from its launch pad.

"Technically, he did. It's his idiot son trying to live up to his father's dreams of villainy that keeps financing these guys now," she reminded him.

"You don't think living with Bonnie has something to do with his sudden personality shift?"

Kim only glanced at him, obviously biting her tongue.

"Happy thoughts won't cut it this time, Kim," he said soberly as the shuttle sliced up through the sky now, headed for the upper atmosphere as Wade's automated course and piloting systems took over, even putting the ship in stealth mode before it broke the troposphere. "We might have to play hardball with these guys this time. Especially considering the stakes, and where we're going."

"I know, Ron," Kim grimaced. "I know. It's just….."

"Yeah. Heck of a honeymoon, isn't it," he grinned.

"I was really looking forward to Portugal."

"So was I," he grinned. "Don't worry. I'll make it up to you."

"You'd better," she teased as the small, but powerful ship carried them toward the moon even as Earth's countdown continued to tick away.

"Kimberly. Ronald," a familiar face appeared on the monitor several hours later. "Wade put me in touch with you so I could brief you before you touched down."

"You have something new?"

"Yes. We have confirmed the nukes are not Pakistani. They are North Korean. And likely highly unstable. Whatever happens, you can't let those missiles near the planet. They'll be dirty enough to contaminate wherever they hit for at least a century to come."

"You can count on us," Kim told her.

"I don't suppose you've got the access codes for the warheads," Ron asked more practically.

"The North Koreans still refuse to admit they even had the warheads, let alone that they were stolen," Betty told him. "I do have the layout of the lunar outpost I'm having Wade send you. If you use the hydroponics section to get into the complex, you can follow the main life-support feeds to reach command-and-control without being spotted by internal security systems."

"So, back to breaking in through ventilations shafts," Kim smiled. "So not the drama."

"You haven't heard the rest. Our remote observation has finally identified all the players. You have _five_ major villains up there, plus over seventy henchmen."

"Ah, man. We should have gone to Portugal," Ron sighed.

"I won't argue," Kim said, watching the curve of the lunar satellite growing large in their forward port. "So, who is it this time, Dr. Director. Drakken and Shego, for sure, right?"

"Drakken, yes. Shego was the one that tipped us to their numbers. Too late, I'm afraid. She actually bailed on this one."

"Shego flipped on Drakken? Why does that not sound good?"

"Because she says Dementor, all three Seniors, and even Camille are involved in this one. She was the one that impersonated the general to get the warheads transferred into Drakken's control."

"What's the punch line," Kim asked somberly, "Because with that bunch, it sounds like there is one. A bad one."

"There is. Shego told me the reason she split was because Dementor already intends to launch, ransom or no. He wants to target Beijing, D.C., and Jerusalem, and pick up the pieces after the resulting chaos fades."

"Not Moscow," Kim frowned.

"Russia is passé," Betty told her. "Frankly, I'm surprised he's bothering with Washington, either. The point is, any one of those missiles is one too many. You can't let them launch. We have all our defenses ready, but…..even shooting them down….."

"I get it, the fallout still wins," Kim nodded.

"Exactly. Good luck," she said, and then her grim visage was replaced by a technical blueprint. One point blinking as it indicated their best vantage point for entry.

"You know, I'm really getting tired of space," Ron sighed as they studied the blueprints. "First aliens. Now loopy villains. What's next? Intergalactic pods that turn us into protein bars for their mother race?"

"You've been watching SciFi again," Kim chuckled.

"Too bad Rufus isn't here. He'd get a kick out of this one," he said.

"I'm sure he's just as glad to be home with Hana," she pointed out. "Besides, they don't make spacesuits his size. And we definitely have to go EVA on this one."

Ron's expression was eloquent. "At least this time there is no possible way I can lose my pants," he teased. Then added, "I hope."

Kim smiled, and put one hand over his, squeezing lightly. "Just think. One more mission, and we can go on our honeymoon."

"Oh, they are going down sooooo fast it's not funny," Ron said earnestly.

Ten minutes later, the sleek shuttle was on the moon, and they were breaking into the hydroponics module after ensuring none of the henchmen were in the area. Fifteen minutes later, they were inside the main ventilation shafts that led from the life-support generators, and out to the main domes. They picked the one they now knew led to C-&-C, and headed toward their target. Halfway there, Kim stopped, and called Wade.

"Kim, where are you? We've got less than thirty minutes."

"I know. And just in case, I have a plan for a backup."

"Okay, what is it," he asked her.

"If I tie you into the main computer lines via the Kimmunicator, can you hack their launch systems from here?"

"Well, maybe, but I won't be able to do much. With the codes likely scrambled or encrypted, I might not be able to even shut them down in time….."

"No, Wade. I want you to launch them, but _point_ them somewhere else. Like, say, Venus."

"I get it. Even if they launch, they end up exploding far from Earth."

"Exactly."

"Okay, just get me plugged into a main conduit. There should be one just to your right. If you can open the tubing, and tap the red and green wires, I should be able to get the job done."

"Okay, we're opening it up now. I'll leave the Kimmunicator here, and move ahead to distract them. Don't let us down, Wade."

"Never, Kim," he grinned, and gave a thumb's up on the small screen as she hooked her Kimmunicator into the conduit exposed by Ron's mini-laser torch.

"Okay. We're going now. Good luck, Wade."

"You, too, guys."

What followed was an almost classic Drakken screw-up. His henchmen were all stationed out on the far side of the complex at the main landing pad. That left five people, all their usual if odd rogues, plus a very scary looking Bonnie Senior in black leather, facing them.

"Kim Possible," Senior, Sr. was the first to remark. "You picked the wrong fight this time, my challenging foe. By showing up here, you have doomed the world," he said, and Dementor cackled as he eyed a series of red buttons he started toward as Drakken just stared in confusion asking, "Where is Shego? Why isn't she here yet?"

"Wrong again, Senior," she told the old man in the meantime, blocking a clumsy punch from Junior, then dropkicking him into an unmoving heap before then tumbling back and away from Bonnie whose leather outfit proved to have at least some cybernetic enhancements as she slammed a fist into a console, smashing it irreparably as the brunette attached with a screech.

"Don't touch my Junior," she commanded as she pressed the attack.

"Ron, destroy the launch center," she shouted as she started battling the woman that was just as tough as Shego in ways with her enhanced, cybernetic suit obviously stolen from Paxton labs last month. S She knew she should have investigated that one.

"On it, KP," he said, having already shoved Drakken aside, and driving Dementor back from the buttons on the console he wanted to reach.

"Too late," Drakken shouted, holding up a remote. "We knew you would show up to destroy things again, so I used my new universal remote to launch all five missiles while you were distracted by the fake control panel!"

"_Five_," Kim gasped.

"Damn it," Ron spat, and all but flung the diminutive Bavarian aside to pursue Dr. Drakken who was crowing over his victory. "You idiot! You'll start a war that no one can win! You'll destroy the entire planet!"

"Wrong! While we wait out the inevitable conflicts, we shall eventually return to Earth with technology to aid the environment, and neutralize the fallout, which will be making us being heroes!" Dementor boasted as he picked himself up from where he fell. "This time, we are the winners, und you….the losers!"

"Uh, guys," Kim stopped to glance at a tracking console. "Guys! I don't know where you think you sent those warheads, but…is that thingy saying _two_ of them are headed right back at us?"

Junior squealed, and simply ran, leaving his father, and his wife behind as Bonnie stared after him.

"This isn't possible," Drakken ranted. "We were supposed to win this time. Why? Why? Why? Why must you always…..?"

"Less talking, more running away," Dementor roared, as he and Drakken followed the elder Senior and Bonnie down a corridor before that hatch slammed closed behind them, locking Ron and Kim in the control center.

"Farewell, Kim Possible," Drakken's leering face came up on the larger of the four monitors a moment later even as they spotted a spacecraft now moving away from the lunar outpost. "You think you're all that, but this time, you're not even going to be dust," he laughed manically before the monitor went blank.

"Wade, can you hear me," she asked, racing to the communications console to contact her friend, already knowing at a glance they would never get back to their shuttle in time. "Wade?"

"Looks like we're cut off, Kim," Ron said, looking around the room as the blips on the screen indicated the two missiles were coming closer.

"Wait. There was an escape pod just outside the captain's quarters," Ron recalled. "Let's go."

"Ron, are you sure….?"

"Trust the Ron-Man, sweetheart," he told her. "We still have a date with Portugal. And I am so going to punch that loopy blue moron but good for this one," he growled as he led her down the opposite corridor toward the captain's quarters.

"Ron, I love you," she grinned, seeing the fully equipped emergency life pod that was not ten feet away when they turned down the second corridor.

"The Ron-Man does what he can, KP," he beamed, and rushed her toward that hatch.

Two minutes later, they were rising over the lunar surface when the black void around them turned white-hot, and searing. For a moment, the pod hung over the surface, even its shielded systems fluttering and fluctuating as deadly radiation bathed the hapless pair as their escape ship trembled on the edge of failure. Then the auxiliary systems cut in, and the small pod raced away from the nuclear destruction that shattered the surface of the moon untouched for millennia save for a few footprints.

"Ron," Kim rasped, staring at him as they clung to one another, listening to the unsettling sounds of ejecta rattling against the outer hull as they sped toward Earth on autopilot, blind and deaf to the world outside. "I don't feel well."

"It's all right, Kim," Ron croaked, his throat raw with sudden fever and pain. "We made it. Once we get back…..they'll fix us up, and…..then….it's Portugal…..for sure this time," he smiled, clinging to his bride as they hurled through space without any clue if they were even still on course.

"Ron. Ron. I…..I've always…..loved you. No one else. I…..I want you to know…..I was waiting…..just….just for you," she sniffed, her eyes blurring not from tears, but from the irradiated elements around her that were searing her flesh, and slowly simmering her eyes in her own sockets.

"I know, KP. I know," the equally suffering, equally blind man replied as he struggled to hold onto the woman that meant more than life itself to him.

It would be over two months before anyone dared approach the heavily irradiated EVA pod to retrieve the two bodies orbiting the planet. The sight was not pretty, and the funerals, naturally, were closed to the public. The only reason the villains escaped justice was because they were smart enough to lay low after their plan failed, their three missiles aimed at the planet diverted just in time to strike Venus. But even Wade had not spotted the other two fired by remote by the madmen in a clever bid to finally end the nearly legendary Team Possible.

To the shock of an entire world, that terrible ploy succeeded, and the world mourned a selfless couple that risked their lives one last time on what should have been their happiest day ever. Instead, it was the day they died. Heroes to the end.

**KP**

Wade was still absorbing the green-skinned woman's incredible tale when Will burst into the office, and told Betty without preamble, "Senior, Sr. is coming back to America to bury his son and daughter-in-law. He's already on his way."

Betty swore. "I specifically told them to keep him away from here."

"Sick as he is, he refuses to leave them here. He intends to personally fly them back to South America for burial."

Betty swore yet again. "Find out when and where he's coming in, and have every man we can spare ready. Whatever is out there…"

"It's Ronald, ma'am," Will told her grimly. "I…..I saw the grave. It's definitely empty. The lead-lined casket torn open from the inside out like it was papier-mache."

"Told you," Wade said quietly.

"So did I," Shego told them.

"So, what now?"

"I told you, Will. We go for Senor Senior, and try to keep him alive long enough to find, and possibly capture this…..entity."

Shego glanced at Wade, shaking her head.

"What if Shego's right, Dr. Director? What if he can't be stopped?"

"Whatever he is, if he's living, he can be stopped. Maybe even killed again. I refuse to stand aside and let anyone play executioner on my watch. So, are you in, or not," she demanded of Shego.

Shego grimaced. "I should have my head examined, but….I'll go. If only to try to keep your boys from royally screwing things up."

"No," Betty said when Wade started to speak up.

"I'm not asking to accompany them," Wade said as he reached into a pouch at his side. "I'm just asking you take this," he told Shego, handing her a small box.

"What is it? Some kind of hi-tech weapon?"

"Not quite. It's a Geiger counter."

Shego frowned.

"I noticed all the crime scenes had low levels of radiation present," Wade explained. "But there was none at the grave. Not even trace amounts. I have to wonder if….."

"A radioactive zombie," Will shuddered. "This just keeps getting better."

"Not a zombie. A Crow," Shego told him. "Jeez, you are thick."

"Either way, find him, and neutralize him. However you have to do it," Betty told them.

_To Be Continued….._


	6. Chapter 6

_I do not own any of the Disney characters named herein, nor the story concept so well portrayed by J. O'Barr, and not so capably by a host of copycats following the late Brandon Lee's iconic film. I am just borrowing characters and concepts to tell my own humble story._

**Kim Possible: Lost Souls**

**A Kim Possible/Crow Crossover**

_**By **_**LJ58**

_**Part **_**Five**_**: Crow**_

Cold eyes watched the aircraft rolling up to the private hangar, an ambulance, and five SUVs already waiting. Men in blue surrounded the hangar, but the watcher didn't care. He was coming. The one that financed death and destruction. The one that was behind it all. Arranged it all. Using dupes and pawns to carry out his plans while keeping his name relatively clean, and leaving him a handful of scapegoats for when he attempted to make himself the world's savior had their plans gone as intended.

Things had not gone well for anyone, though. Not then. Not now.

The world had recoiled from their truly evil villainy. Even some of their own turned against them after the moon was shattered, and the night sky was forever changed.

Glittering eyes watched the jet stop, the hatch opening, and the watcher knew….absolutely knew….it wasn't enough that the one inside was ill. Possibly dying. There had to be more. There would be a reckoning. Just two more. And they would be avenged.

_He_ would be avenged!

Red hair was shoved back from cold, green eyes, and the watcher leapt nimbly from the top of a nearby support structure, and walked fearlessly toward the waiting men even as a pale man with thinning hair hobbled out of the jet, and looked down at the waiting men as artificial light from the hangar lit the surrounding area a few feet from the nose of the aircraft.

Overhead, a large crow cawed, and thin lips turned down as her glittering green eyes locked on the man who ruined their lives.

"Take me to my son," Senor Senior, Sr. demanded in a surprisingly strong voice.

"Don't you mean what's left of him, old man," a familiar voice drawled.

The white head turned, and the thin lips quirked as the hated voice remarked, "Shego, my dear. Aren't you supposed to be dead?"

"Yeah, well there's a lot of that going around lately," she replied cryptically as she stepped forward.

"So, was it you? Did you kill my Junior? Did you kill all those others to avenge that bitch you secretly loved for all those years?"

The redhead froze just a few feet from the tail of the jet, as yet unnoticed in the shadows beyond the bright circle of light.

The green woman now clad all in black said nothing for a moment.

"You had better come with us, Mr. Senior," Will demanded. "Your life is in danger, even if you don't know it."

"Really, don't they teach you young men anything anymore," the old man sighed as he hobbled down the steps with the help of two orderlies, his right side tellingly stiff. "One's life is always in peril in this world. It is, after all, the way of things."

"Oh….crap," Shego said as she glanced to the device strapped to the belt of her dark uniform that began to clatter nosily at that moment.

"Shego," Will asked as the men around them tensed.

"I've got lots of noise, and lots of red lights, errand boy," Shego told him as she spun around, and looked into the shadows beyond the plane. "Get the loopy, old man out of here. I'll try to…"

Shego froze as the silhouette of a lean, willowy presence stepped forward, two bodies dragged along in seemingly small hands.

"Hello, Senor Senior," came a soft, raspy voice as the redhead stepped out of the darkness into the hangar's lights.

"Kim…..Possible," the old man croaked, his heart thudding heavily in his chest as Shego gestured frantically, willing the agents around them not to move.

They were wrong.

It wasn't monkey boy after all. It was _her_! Kim Possible, seemingly alive, and untouched by the affects of the radiation that had killed her and Ron. She glanced around, and noted a large, black crow perched on the wing of the Gulfstream staring down at them with cold, fathomless eyes. It cawed loudly, and Kim smiled coldly as her eyes fixed on Senor to the exclusion of all others.

"Crap," Shego hissed, really hating it when she was right.

"How is this possible? Even for you, my dear? Why, you look as lovely and spirited as the last time I saw you. Right before you were burned alive by the fiery forces of nature itself unleashed," the man stated suavely, though he was in obvious pain as his free hand reached for a vial of pills as the other clenched his cane in trembling, whitened knuckles.

"I'd tell you, but it really wouldn't matter," Kim said as she walked past the gaping agents who knew she was supposed to be dead. She stopped just a few feet from the old man even as Senior, Sr. reached the ground at the bottom of the stairs to face her.

The tattered duster she wore over a faded, white battle-suit gave her a strangely macabre appearance, but it was her eyes that shocked them most. They all but glowed with secret fires. And secret knowledge. "So it doesn't matter what I tell you," she went on, those eyes locked on Senior. "You helped kill him. The only decent man in this rotten, decaying husk of a world, and now you have to die. It's Justice, Senor."

"Oh, no, my dear. It sounds more like vengeance," he chided her playfully after popping two small pills into his mouth, and slowly relaxing as the medicine began to work on his pounding heart.

"From where I'm standing, they're the same damn thing," she hissed, baring her teeth as she leapt forward, driving a clawed, glowing hand through the man's chest and literally tearing out his heart in a spray of gore as he staggered back, rheumy eyes staring in shock at his own weakly pulsing organs final beats just before a cruel fist closed, and crushed it into pulp as he died in the same instant.

"Goodbye, Senior," she murmured so quietly it might have been a lover's whisper on the wind. Then she snatched up his falling body before it hit the ground, throwing it so hard it all but exploded against the side of the sleek jet, a burst of blood and gore pained the side of the white and gold aircraft, leaving an oddly avian silhouette behind after the limp body slid down to splat on the tarmac beneath the aircraft as more than one agent doubled over in nausea as they began to vomit at the sight of the gore. Shego knew even she wasn't that strong. Maybe even Hego wasn't that strong.

"Going to try to get in my way again, Agent Du," hard green eyes turned to lock on him as Will instinctively moved to block her when she turned to leave.

"You…..You cannot be here. It's not possible!"

"Check the name, GJ-man," she smiled coldly, and walked past him as he simply stared at her.

Kim paused to stand beside Shego, each of the facing the opposite direction.

Neither looking toward the other.

"You're pretty smart. But you and Wade didn't know they mixed up our graves," she murmured.

"I know what you are," Shego said in a grim voice as she simply stood there, every muscle taut with tension as she didn't even breathe for a moment.

"Then you know what I have to do."

It wasn't a question.

"I… I wish…"

"Wishes are stars in the sky, Sherri," Kim murmured quietly as she called her by her true name. A name Kim should not have known. "They fill the heavens, but so very, very few ever come down to earth. That's what makes them so precious when they do. Please don't get between us. That is my wish now."

"Kim…."

She turned to look at her now, but Kim was gone.

Just…..gone.

Shego said nothing as the agents began babbling, even Will asking her what they should do. Shego ignored the tears brimming in her eyes, and walked out of the hangar without looking back. Or answering them.

**KP**

"You didn't even try to stop her," Betty demanded of her as Shego sat slumped in a chair in her office.

"I couldn't fight her. Stoppable, I figured I could make a go of it. But not….not her. Not after what happened. It wouldn't be right."

"What's not right is that a resurrected corpse that is killing off people all around us, and when she came after Senior not _one_ of my seventeen hand-picked agents even lifted a hand to stop her," she shouted furiously.

"You had to be there."

"Will told me what Senior said. About you and….."

"What a surprise. Your errand boy is a tattletale, too."

Betty slammed a fist on her desk. "Damn it, Shego….."

"Call me Sherri," she murmured.

"What?"

"Never mind. I'm going home. Tired," the woman sighed as she levered out of the chair, and walked toward the door.

"Sheg…..? Fine, Sherri," Betty grumbled as the woman glanced back over her shoulder with a scowl. "Do you know where Lipski is now?"

"No."

"See if you can find out. We find him, we find her," Betty told her needlessly before she left.

Shego went to her small, nondescript apartment rented under yet another assumed name. Another throwaway bolt hole with nothing personal to mark her coming and going beyond a few changes of clothes, and a toothbrush. She didn't even bother to shower or change as she went to her bedroom, and dropped onto the bed, staring at the ceiling without ever having turned on the light.

"I'm sorry," she finally murmured, her eyes drifting closed as she finally succumbed to her own fatigue, visions of what might have been warring with visions of a cold, harsh reality in her mind.

She didn't see the shadow of a large bird move past her window. Or the more humanoid silhouette that squatted on the sill, perched like a great bird itself before it finally leapt out into the sky to vanish into shadow again. The only trace of the visitor was a small, smudged handprint on the outside of the dirty window.

One that had a vaguely bird-shaped pattern to the splayed impression in the dirt.

**KP**

"It's Dr. Director," the woman in the blue uniform that was virtually her only wardrobe for so long that she didn't even know what it was like not to be wearing it.

The door slowly opened, and wide, wary eyes peered out as the short, stocky woman let her into the room. That she was obviously worried showed in every line in her wrinkled, sagging visage as she glanced from Betty, to the darkness beyond, and quickly gestured her in to all but slam the door.

"You can't be too safe these days. There are hooligans everywhere," the older woman told her as she bolted, latched, chained, and barred the door.

"Mrs. Lipski, I'll be honest. I need to find Drew. It's a matter of life and death. His."

"I've heard about how some of his old friends are dying off suddenly. It's so dreadful. The reporters say they were accidents, but I didn't get this old by being a fool. Someone is hunting down all of my Drewbie's old playmates, aren't they?"

"Yes, ma'am, they are," Betty nodded, seeing no reason to lie as the woman with frizzled orange hair this week led her to an overstuff couch covered in plastic.

Last week, she knew, the woman's hair had been blue. Her analysts suggested her hair colors might be secret coded messages to her son. Betty thought her new analysts were a little screwy themselves. She knew the woman was simply a loopy, old bitch.

"Oh, dear. Well, I suppose you'll be telling me it isn't you?"

"It's not, ma'am. It's someone that wants Drew dead. Not hurt. Not in prison. Dead."

"Do you know who it is?"

"You would never believe me," she told her sincerely as she ignored the offer for tea. The woman wasn't above drugging people in case they were going to 'try something' as she often put it. She knew some of her agents had been drugged more than once when visiting the seemingly harmless old woman, giving her son time to get away if he were in the area. Or even in the house.

"Try me," Mrs. Lipski murmured, pouring her own cup of tea, and dipping a homemade sugar cookie into the dark brew.

"Do you remember Kim Possible?"

"Oh, that annoying little redhead that was always giving my Drewbie so many headaches? You would not believe the tantrums he used to throw….."

"Yes, ma'am, I would."

"But….wait….. Isn't she dead? Didn't she have some kind of…..accident, or something? I remember hearing about it. I think she and her boyfriend both got killed doing some of that silly extreme stuff youngsters do these days."

"Close enough. But she's come back from the grave to kill those she feels responsible for their deaths, Mrs. Lipski. And Drew is on top of that list."

"But…. But….. My Drewbie wouldn't hurt a fly," she protested vehemently even as a cold chill seemed to suddenly permeate the overly heated room.

The chill was so sudden, and so pronounced that Betty knew something was wrong.

She leapt up, spinning around, one hand on the sidearm she was about to pull even as she found herself face-to-face with Kim Possible who seemed to step right out of the shadows of the dimly lit living room illuminated only by a few small lamps.

The pale redhead didn't even look at Betty as she walked over to sit beside the old woman staring at her, naturally, as if seeing a ghost.

"Now, now, now," the redhead sighed in an all too familiar tone that Betty knew was genuine. "We both know Drew was the most twisted, selfish, and morally indifferent man ever to walk on the face of the planet. He injured and maimed tens of thousands. He killed thousands more. He cost billions of dollars of damage, and ruined countless lives, reputations, and businesses."

"No…..!"

"And you know it. You knew it all along," she said, patting the old woman's thick thigh covered by a gaudily colored sundress.

"You….. You're not a nice person," she hissed at Kim. "I don't know how you got in my house, or who you think you are…..!"

"You know who I am, Mrs. Lipski. And I'm here for the same reason Betty is. I want Drew. I want to _thank_ him for all he's done for me."

"I don't believe you," the woman said, reaching into the folds of the dress that hung loose around her stocky frame. "You'll never get near my Drewbie! Never," she cried, and pulled up a shotgun pistol, pulling both triggers even as the weapon was pressed right against Kim's slender belly.

She stared down at it, didn't bat an eye as the weapon discharged, and only jerked as it exploded through her flesh and bone, spraying blood and gore over the plastic-covered furniture.

Betty stared in horror. Not just at the grizzly wounds, but at the fact the redhead who wasn't supposed to be alive anyway wasn't dying again. She only stared down at the hole in her abdomen, then looked up at the orange-haired woman and hissed, "Ouch," with as much feeling as one might give for a paper cut.

Kim sighed as she batted the gun away from the woman's trembling hands before she could reload, her eyes all but bulging as she saw Kim's macabre wounds healing in slow-motion as if they were watching a horror film rather than reality unfold before them. Betty's own hand was clutching the butt of her specially modified laser pistol, but she had yet to draw it. She was gaping herself as Kim now reached out, and cupped the older woman's face in her small, gloved hands. The gaping hole in her belly already completely sealed.

"Where is Drew," she asked softly, almost playfully.

"I don't know. And even if I did, I'd never tell you. Never, you…!"

"I believe you," Kim sighed, smiling sadly. "And I understand. Really, I do. You're a mother, and he's your little boy. Right?"

"Y-Yes."

"And no mother wants you see her little boy get hurt. Even if he is a monster."

"My Drew…..!"

"Still, you aren't much help, but you might warn him. I can't allow that. And you shouldn't have to _see_ what I'm going to do to him."

"D-Do…..?"

"And you really shouldn't have shot me," Kim said so quietly that for a moment neither she nor Betty heard the venom in the redhead's voice as her powerful hands twisted, and the old woman's head turned a full one-hundred and eighty degrees to face the back of the couch, her neck and vertebrae snapping like rotted wood before Kim released her to let her fall back on the blood-smeared couch.

Kim stood up, brushing away the residue of her own impossible injuries as she eyed the shredded battle suit that left her pale flesh bared. Flesh without so much as a blemish on it. Then she turned to Betty who sat in a chair across from the couch, and walked around the table to stand beside her.

"I take it you don't know where he is either, or you wouldn't be here, would you?"

Betty swallowed hard, saying nothing. Knowing nothing need be said.

"K-Kimberly….I'm not sure what's going on here, but…..this isn't you. This….."

"You were smart not to pull that weapon. I really don't want to hurt you. In fact, I always admired you. And, yes, Dr. Director, this _is_ me. They killed us. They killed Ron. They cannot be allowed to get away with that. I won't let them."

Betty felt a knot rise in her throat.

"I'm going to go now. But first, there are two things you should know."

"Just two," Betty Director managed to ask calmly as she looked up at the woman in the ragged duster covering her mostly shredded battle-suit.

"Just two. First. Stop feeling guilty about us. What happened out there was not your fault. It was theirs," she said grimly as the soft flutter of unseen wings shifting restlessly filled the dimly lit room. Second," Kim went on after looking away for a moment, her gaze thoughtful. "Don't be so hard on Sherri. You and her have more in common than you know."

"Kim…"

"Goodbye, Elizabeth," she said with a said smile, shocking the brunette by using her own name so rarely voiced these days. "With luck, this will soon be over, and we won't meet again."

"Wait," Betty jumped up as Kim walked past her.

Even as she moved, spinning around to search the room around her, she knew Kim was gone. Vanished as abruptly as she had come. She did not pause to ponder her trembling hands as she pulled out her radio and called in a cleanup team. Then she raised the priority sweep for any sign of Drew Lipski. Right now, he was apparently the last. Betty wondered if Shego was right. If Kim would just….go away once she was done. Still, she couldn't accept that. Couldn't live with that.

She had sent those kids to their deaths. She would not stand by and watch their reputations smeared by some apparent….ghost coming back to bloody their names with mindless vengeance. Only she wasn't sure what she could do about it. Even now, she wasn't sure what shocked her more. Watching her take a shotgun blast to the gut, and ignore it as if it were nothing. Or watching Kim kill so blatantly, so causally.

**KP**

The sun was setting on the third day, news of yet another grizzly killing in the villain community topping the reports, when Jack Hench heard something thud against the door in private office. Insulated, and sound-proofed, he couldn't hear what was going on outside, but the very fact something had slammed against that door hard enough for him to notice was telling.

"Gina," he buzzed his secretary. "What's going on out there?"

There was no answer.

"Gina? Where are you, woman," he demanded, knowing he had not released her despite the lateness of the hour.

"Gina," he asked as the usual quiet met his query.

No static. No reply. Not even another thud at the door.

Frowning, he walked over to the doors, and pulled them open. Staring out into the grizzly remains of his night crew, complete with scattered bodies that made his outer office appear more a charnel house than a business.

"What the devil…..?"

"Funny choice of words," Kim smiled as she walked out of the bloody carnage around her, covered in blood, her jacket a shapeless rag around a body covered only by the equally shredded remains of a once white bodysuit of some kind.

"_You_," Jack Hench gaped, staring at the impossible presence before him.

"You're a hard man to reach, Mr. Hench," she said, walking up to him as he backed into his office, not sure how the woman was standing there bathed in blood and gore, but knowing he did not want her touching him.

"Very, very hard," she smiled coldly. "Almost as hard as the man I came here to find."

"Wh-Wh-What man," he asked, his mind instantly looking for deals and outs as he calculated than thirty-two corpses lay outside his office, and Possible, supposedly dead for a year now, didn't have a mark on her so far as he could tell.

"_Drakken_," she hissed, the name coming out like a curse. "If there is one man on this planet that knows where he is, you're it. Now, you can cooperate, tell me where he is, and I'll leave you to run your silly little empire, or… I can take my time convincing you, and you'll tell me anyway. Maybe you'll even survive," she told him as she flexed small hands that cracked audibly as a smile etched across her pale, bloodied face that made his own blood run cold.

"He's in Go City," Jack blurted out without even weighing his options.

One look at that unholy gaze was all he needed to know he wasn't going to be able to deal with this crazed bitch.

"I swear," he almost whined when her eyes narrowed with grim intent.

"Where," she demanded, still standing just a few feet from him, her eyes hooded, her expression deceptively impassive.

"He's… He's hiding in the abandoned Go Tower. He figured…..no one would ever look there. Even tourists don't even bother to visit that dump any more."

"All right. We'll see. But, Jack…..?"

"Y-Yes," he asked as she turned to walk toward the open door.

"If you warn him, I'll be back. And there won't be a place on this planet where you can hide. Not from me."

She left him standing there, leaning against his own desk as the bitter odor of blood and urine filled the air. Some of the latter his own. A large bird he had not noticed until then cawed as it flew from a file cabinet to follow the very scary redhead. It tickled a memory of an old wife's tale his granny once told him from the Old Country. It was not a nice story.

Shuddering, he shook his head in denial, and rushed to slam the door, bolting it, and returning to his desk. Sitting down, he ignored his damp slacks, and just stared vacantly as he tried very hard not to think of what that idiot Lipski had stirred up this time. He never should have done any business with him. Ever. That was one fruitcake that was beyond mere evil, and was just plain insane. That said, he didn't even want to try to think what that made the redhead that had just walked out of his office.

He wasn't sure there were words to describe that creature.

**KP**

"Da-da-da-dum, dum, da-dum."

A dark head cocked as the man working on the engine of a circular aircraft paused, and frowned, his scarred left cheek crinkling in thoughtful repose as he wondered aloud, "Or was it da-da-dum, da-dum, dum? Meh. I can never remember. Oh, well, not that it matters," he muttered to himself as he continued to tweak his personal hovercraft.

With a little luck, he could amp the horsepower, and keep the stealth gear he had borrowed from crashing the main turbines this time when he had to make a quick getaway. Things had gotten so much harder of late since Shego had taken off, and left him, apparently dying on the moon, he had heard. Well, it was her own fault for being late to the briefings.

And, of course, the getaway.

Still, even a year later, the sweetness of _her_ defeat remained fresh in his mind. All those years, and he had finally put both those annoying do-gooders firmly in the ground. In space? Well, they were in space when they died, and he rather doubted they had saved that much of them bury considering they were literally at ground zero when two dirty nukes went off before they could escape.

He chortled again at the thought, and his only regret was that he couldn't quite boast over his personal victory as much as he would like. Even some of his peers only frowned when he brought up his moment of triumph. Then, too, Shego wasn't around to rub it in that he, not a comet-powered freak, had finally done in the cheerleader.

Still, lately a lot of his former co-conspirators were dropping dead with alarming frequency in less than coincidental accidents according to the media.

After Junior was killed, he was smart enough to get out of his mother's basement where someone might find him, and locate another hiding place where no one would ever think to find him. With good reason. The tower was a dump, and had all the amenities of a child's clubhouse. He couldn't even get good cable reception!

Sighing, he turned back to his repairs, fully intending to be ready in case he had to make another fast getaway.

"Hello, Drew," a voice drawled so softly he almost missed it.

"Eh? Is someone there? You're trespassing you know," he pointed out reasonably.

A soft chortle was his only reply as something rustled from overhead. Like a large bird that was flying across the hangar where only a single, antiquated jet was parked next to his own hovercraft.

"Hello?"

He frowned, shrugged, and started to reach for a tool only to find it was missing.

"Now this isn't funny. Those things cost money, you know," he told the trespasser as he turned to stare around the dark hangar lit only by his work lights since the Tower was technically abandoned, and had no electrical hookup any longer. Which, regrettably, meant he couldn't just throw a switch, and steal power as usual.

The trespasser laughed again.

"Well, it would if I paid for it. Still…..I need that."

"You're just too dumb to even be scared. Aren't you, Dr. D?"

"Meh? Do I know you? Show yourself," he said a little uneasily.

He heard faint footsteps as if someone were walking toward him. He slid a hand into a pocket of his trademark blue lab coat a few shades darker than his cerulean skin, and waited. "Do I owe you money," he asked, the footsteps having suddenly stopped, but no sign of anyone around him just then.

"No. Not money," a woman's voice murmured from directly behind him.

He spun around, and screeched in an almost feminine voice as he looked into the pale, smirking features of a creature from his darkest nightmare.

"_Kim Possible_," he cried, backing away to trip over his own toolbox, and land sprawling as he continued to stare up at her. "But…. But…. But you're…..dead! I know you're dead! I saw your funeral. I visited your grave. I even….."

Kim walked over to squat down in front of him.

"I think you know why I'm here."

"You…..You killed everyone. Didn't you," he grimaced, sounding like a little boy who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Oh, yes," she smiled, she nodded, reaching down, and pulling him up to his feet as she stood, handling his weight with unnatural ease.

"And…. And you're going to kill….me, too," he whimpered.

"Yes. Yes, I am. You deserve it, you know. You killed Ron. The only truly good man in the world."

"Ron? The name escapes me. I have killed so many, you see….."

"Never mind. You know what you did. And I have something for you. Something special I've been saving just for you."

"Really? A present? For me?"

Her green eyes glittered. "Oh, yes. Just for you."

Drew didn't like the sound of that, noting she didn't let go of his lapels, and her hands started to glow in a curious manner.

"Is it…..going to hurt," he whined as he looked into her burning, green orbs.

"Oh, yes. It's going to hurt a lot," she assured him just before she unleashed all the nuclear energies contained from her and Ron's deaths in that EVA pod that felt like an eternity ago.

The man held helpless in her hands screamed, and tried to escape as his garments charred, and his flesh began to melt as the blood boiled in his veins. But her hands wouldn't release him, and the deadly energies she radiated filled the entire hangar as his scream was abruptly cut off as soft tissue and lungs burned away until he couldn't breathe any longer. He fell from her grip, staring sightlessly out of ruined, liquefied eyes as she turned and walked away without looking back. The body convulsed, more dead than alive, pain echoing through every surviving nerve cluster as the brain tried to deny what was happening, but the soul understood all too well.

By the time the echo of a large crow faded, the once more abandoned hangar was completely dark, and the charred corpse laying in the middle was completely dead.

**KP**

"I knew you'd come back here."

Kim slowly turned to see Shego standing near a tree close to her grave.

"It's done."

"I kind of figured when I saw you show, Princess." She eyed her shredded garments, and tried not to shudder. "Looks like a hard night."

"For some."

"I take it….you found Dr. D?"

That she didn't answer was answer enough.

"I tried to warn you. You and Stoppable. Even I felt they crossed a line that day. Hell, they crossed a freakin' gulf."

"I know, Sherri. I appreciate it. But it's done. Ron is avenged, and now I'm going….to whatever waits."

Shego wanted to step forward. Wanted to touch her. Wanted….a lot. Instead, she stared as Kim gave her a faint, almost bitter smile, and turned back to her grave.

"It was fun. Wasn't it, Kimmie," she called out desperately as Kim shrugged out of the ragged, bloody duster she had been wearing.

"It was spankin', Sherri," she said quietly, and sadly, and gently touched her own name engraved in marble as her tombstone began to glow a soft blue.

"Kim….."

She choked off, staring at the translucent shape of another familiar face smiling at Kim as he stood there standing over the grave in a flowing, white gi.

Surrounded by a faint, blue aura, Ron smiled warmly at the ragged, bloody figure before him, and reached out to embrace her. Kim gave a soft cry, and flung herself at him.

Shego gave a wordless cry as a bright light exploded the moment they met, blinding her for an instant. By the time she could see again, the open grave was somehow restored, and everything looked…..proper again.

"Rest in peace, Princess," she sniffed, and stepped forward, putting a single, red rose on the ground over the grave she knew was really Kim's.

"Miss Go," a husky voice called from behind her in the darkness.

Shego turned, tensed for trouble, and stared at a familiar redhead in a shawl and carrying a flashlight.

"Dr. Possible," she frowned at Ann's pale, drawn face.

"It is you," the woman said as she walked forward, the light playing over the graves. "We heard….."

"Yeah. Yeah, I know. And….Technically, _Shego_ is dead. I have been using Jade now. But… But it's Sherri. Okay?"

"Uhm, sure."

"Why are you out so late, Doc," she asked quietly, wondering how much the woman might have seen.

"I heard….. I was told someone vandalized their graves," she choked. "I….I had to see."

"No. I wouldn't let that happen. You can see," she smiled sadly, gesturing at the now peaceful plots. "All good."

"Yes. Shego…..Ah…..Sherri. Were you….._there_?"

"No," she sighed, catching the woman's heavenward glance, and understanding what the woman meant. "I wish I had been. I would have given my own life for hers if I could have, but….."

"I know. I felt the same way. But she died the way she lived. That's what I try to remember," she said, walking up to stand beside Shego only then. "I still do."

"Dr. Possible…."

"Please. Call me Ann. I know she considered you a friend. I… I just wish….."

"Wishes are like stars in the sky," Shego sighed impulsively. "They fill the heavens, but so very, very few ever come down to earth. That's what makes them so precious when they do."

"What," Ann almost cried.

"It's just…something someone told me," she smiled wanly.

"Sheg….. Sherri. That's a line directly from a book Kim was writing before… Before. A book she never finished. And I have the only copy. Did you…..?"

Shego shook her head. "Kimmie was a writer? I guess I shouldn't be surprised. So, what was it about?"

"I'll tell you….. If you tell me where you heard that," Ann demanded firmly.

"First, tell me something, Ann. Have you ever heard of a legend about a _crow_?"

**KP**

_**Epilogue:**_

"Will tells me you've been spending a lot of time with Ann Possible lately," Betty said as Shego walked into the office a few weeks later.

"She's a friend."

"I didn't know you had friends, Agent Jade," Betty drawled as she finished the final report on cleaning up after Kim's vengeful spree following her unlikely resurrection. Not that she was saying anything about crows, revenant's, or anything similar. So far as the public would ever know, a person or persons nknown had killed those felons.

None of them would be missed.

As to Dr. Drakken's very nasty ending that even she couldn't explain, well, he was always blundering into dangerous places, and tinkering with dangerous forces. So far as the official report was concerned, he had killed himself in yet one more blunder with an experiment that had obviously gone awry. One that necessitated Go Tower being leveled, and the small island being encased in cement to ensure the residual remaining radioactive fallout was buried with the remains of the madman that had caused so much grief over the years.

"There's a lot you don't know about me, Bets," she smiled, sounding a bit more carefree of late.

"So, what do you two talk about?"

"Things. Stuff. You know?"

Betty frowned. "Actually. I don't."

Shego suddenly smiled. "You really should get out more."

"Do you think…..Dr. Possible would mind if I visited her with you sometime?"

"Sure. In fact, you might be able to help us with a project we're working on."

"A project," Betty frowned.

"Yeah. Did you know our Kimmie was working on a book before she died?"

"No. No, I didn't."

"Imagine that. You really _don't_ know everything," the green-skinned woman grinned.

"Shego….."

"Sherri," Shego told her with another smile.

"All right. Sherri. So…..A book?"

"Yeah. It's a fictionalized account of her life. Or would have been. We talked it over, and I convinced Ann she should finish it. If only to serve as a memorial of the real Kim we both knew, and loved."

"I think it would be a fitting tribute for a brave young woman," Betty nodded, still unable to accept the Kimberly she knew and remembered as being that bloodthirsty thing she had met at the Lipski's house.

"Yeah. We think so, too."

"Sherri. I was wondering about something. That legend you told us about. Does it say what happens after the Crow is finished? About…..where they go?"

"Not a word. So far as I know, they just go to wherever they were meant to go all along. I guess it's like everything else. You have to hope for the best, and trust that someone out there really does have a plan for us."

"Even you," Betty asked, caught by surprised at hearing that kind of sentiment from her.

"Yeah. Even me," she smiled, never having told anyone but Ann about what she had seen that night Kim returned to her resting place. That was a memory she wouldn't share with anyone else. It was….special. It was hers.

"I suppose you are right," the brunette murmured, and then surprised herself as much as Shego when she blurted out, "So…. Would you like to go out for a drink, or something sometime?"

Shego just stared at her.

Betty, half expecting a familiar sarcasm, told her, "I just thought…. We've been working together all this time now, and after what happened…. Well, I thought we might get to know one another a little better. Maybe… Maybe even get to be…..friends. For the sake of the one we both shared."

Betty sat in her chair, waiting for the snipe. The dry wit. The brush-off. She was surprised yet again when Shego nodded, and told her, "Why not? How about lunch? I know a pretty good place not far from here. They have a really good chardonnay."

Betty found herself relaxing, and feeling oddly…..hopeful. "All right. Shall I meet you at the main doors at noon?"

"Better make half past. I have to go finish those reports on the South American thingy."

"All right," the head agent agreed with a genuine smile.

"Just bring your credit card," Shego grinned.

"Oh?"

"Well, it's traditional for the boss to pay, right," Shego winked as he rose from the seat where she had been lounging.

Betty couldn't help but shake her head at the woman. "That won't let you off the hook for those reports. Especially since I'm looking forward to hearing how you lost _two_ aircraft this time."

"Hey, RPG's are a bitch even for me," Shego chortled as she walked out of the office. "Later, Bets."

"Don't call me….."

The door closed behind her, and Betty couldn't help but smile. Maybe she is a lot more like me than I thought. It would be fun to find out, she thought. And it might be nice to see Ann Possible again, and finally bury that guilt she had been carrying around in her like a living thing all this time.

Time would tell.

_End….._


End file.
